Re: Hamster Wheel
anonymous
October 24 2010, 21:53:08 UTC
Damn. Seconding everything others said about how hot this is and how well it portrays the way arousal builds on itself (which can be true of non-kinky arousal too imo, but this depiction of shame/arousal spiraling higher and higher really captures it.)
I love to imagine a Rodney POV of this too. I think it wouldn't necessarily clear up all the ambiguity. I imagine Rodney wondering if John realizes Rodney will never cross the line, that to him it's just dirty talk that he loves for what it does for John. I don't think we can know that, even having had access to John's POV, because John's in that hamster wheel in the story. When he gets off (heh) he might understand with perfect clarity that Rodney would never do that to him. Or he might not. There does always seem to be an underlying doubt in John. Maybe he can disregard it and function around it most of the time, and only indulge it like this, with Rodney.
But I would actually also love a further bit of this from John's POV, just because I'm really curious what Rodney's aftercare looks like in this scenario. I'd like to imagine it's reassuring, but the way you've set this up, it seems unlikely. Possessive, maybe, which would be reassuring without collapsing the illusion John has that Rodney might do the worst to him.
Thanks for not only a hot great story, but one that makes me speculate beyond its boundaries...
Re: Hamster Wheel
anonymous
November 1 2010, 01:07:42 UTC
I'm really curious what Rodney's aftercare looks like in this scenario. I'd like to imagine it's reassuring, but the way you've set this up, it seems unlikely. Possessive, maybe, which would be reassuring without collapsing the illusion John has that Rodney might do the worst to him.
Yes, Rodney aftercare is rather perfunctory on the face of it. And always couched in a humiliating way. He tells John to and spread himself wide so he can check nothing's torn, then adds with a deliberately casual cruelty, "I don't want any blood on my sheets." When he uses a lifesign detector to make sure no one's in the hall outside, it's because, "I wouldn't want anyone to know I fucked the Pegasus galaxy's favorite bike."
If I wrote a sequel it would be about how exhausting it was for Rodney to maintain the illusion of disdain while giving John what he needs and that, though turning John on is great, Rodney is sometimes pained by the fact that if he ever slips, it will all fall apart. If John isn't scared and doubtful on some level, then it doesn't work for him. If he knew how much Rodney cared, knew how much he meant to Rodney, he know Rodney was taking care of him and without the edge, it wouldn't hit his kink.
Rodney would be very afraid of that happening, not only because the relationship would inevitable fail then, but because he's doing this to keep John from resorting to someone who would be genuinely dangerous. I imagine a scene gone wrong with some previous person or bad mission was how Rodney discovered John's kink.
Like you say, the closest Rodney can come to letting John know or revealing his feelings is through acting possessive, threatening to punish John in some humiliating fashion if he strays.
I think that unless something changed in John's psyche, the relationship would be ultimately doomed because it would deny Rodney everything he needed. It seems inherently unstable as I wrote it.
You know there are all these stories where they find some Ancient mechanism that messes up their minds or sexuality? A story where they got affected by one that genuinely helped or fixed something would be great.
Merry Go Round Broke Down 1
anonymous
February 1 2011, 10:19:25 UTC
"You know there are all these stories where they find some Ancient mechanism that messes up their minds or sexuality? A story where they got affected by one that genuinely helped or fixed something would be great."
Bunnied!
-
One minute, John is shifting uncomfortably as he follows the Regent into the bursary, his dick chafing heavily in his boxers at the thought of what Rodney will say later about John going off with the Regent alone, about John flirting with the Regina, even though John didn't mean to be anything but friendly; he knows it doesn't matter, that Rodney will make him pay.
The next minute, he feels a floating sense of disorientation and when he comes back to himself, half-staggered against an Ancient pedestal console, the hot twist of embarrassment is just... gone. He isn't the least bit hard anymore, his shame and anticipation missing as if they've been surgically removed.
Still kind of out of it, he looks up at the Regent, a self-satisfied expression floating between the royal neckbrace and the royal crash helmet.
"You may be a leader of your people," says the Regent, "but no common man deserves the attentions of my sister."
John takes his hands of the console and backs away fast, and the Regent looks even more maliciously pleased, obviously thinking that John is horrified by what the device has done to him.
When really, John's getting away from the console because he's afraid the device might reverse it. The loss is settling in, and John feels perfectly healthy and uncommonly clear-headed.
He tests himself, imagining Rodney grabbing a fistful of fabric at his shoulder and forcing him down, holding him away while John pleads to be allowed to blow him. He feels a vague sense of nostalgic fulfillment tinged with self-consciousness, like remembering a delicious unhealthy meal.
John tries to look freaked out and unhappy as the Regent orders him out of the bursary and back to the team, and then John tries to look as if he's trying not to look freaked out and unhappy when he flashes a thumbs-up to the team and tells them, "We're all good here."
-
In the infirmary after the mission, Keller doesn't find a thing wrong with John; she scans him to hell and back, standard procedure when any of them are exposed to Ancient tech, since John dutifully described the console to Rodney in the jumper on the way back. Maybe it's a mistake, but John didn't tell Rodney how the console changed his feelings and he doesn't tell Keller now, either.
Once they're all released, Rodney covertly gestures to John, who follows him; as much as he doesn't want to talk about it or think about it ever again, his sense of fair play won't let him just walk away. He owes it to Rodney to tell him it's over.
"It didn't take the Regent long to get tired of you," Rodney says the moment they're alone, giving John a little shove through the door into Rodney's quarters. "How long were you gone, four minutes? Of course, you're so desperate for cock, you probably sucked the come right out of him before he even had a chance to get all the way hard."
Now that it's not burning him up with shame and excitement, John can step back and kind of admire how creative and forceful Rodney is. He wonders where Rodney got all that muscle in his shoulders and arms without lifting weights. Maybe he's had a lot of practice pushing people around and holding them down.
"Are you smiling at me?" Rodney shouts. "What the hell is wrong with you?" And without the clouding buzz of arousal, John can see the actual concern that Rodney's covering with a show of anger; he sees the way Rodney's studying him, looking at his body language for cues.
"Nothing's wrong," John says honestly. "I, ah... I don't want that anymore." After a painful stretched second he adds, "Sorry."
Merry Go Round Broke Down 2
anonymous
February 1 2011, 10:21:59 UTC
"Of course," Rodney crosses his arms, "you'll beg for it on your hands and knees, you'll come all over yourself just thinking about it, but you don't want it."
John spreads his hands, indicating himself, his own lack of response.
"You don't want it anymore," Rodney repeats, this time with realization. His eyes narrow, a scowl gouging deep lines around his mouth. "What happened?" And just as fast, "It was that device you saw, wasn't it? Why didn't you say something? Weren't you listening at all? The Regent and Regina don't have absolute power there, we could negotiate with the Ministry if they denied us access to the device to reverse the effect--"
"Hey!" John says in annoyance. "I was listening. I don't want it reversed." Which leaves Rodney kind of hanging, he knows, and he does understand that that's shitty. "I'm sorry," he says again.
"Fine, okay." Rodney flicks a hand at him irritably. "Well? Get out of here."
John doesn't have to be told twice. He goes.
-
At first, it's fantastic. He was always aware of it as a huge vulnerability on missions, a weakness day to day around the city, and it's a tremendous weight off his shoulders.
After a couple of weeks, though, he's restless. Whatever the console did, it took his whole libido offline. His body still needs release now and then, but nothing excites him. Jerking himself off, he can't muster up much more than a semi. He tries porn, nothing. Just touching his own ass with lube used to make him tremble with guilt and arousal, but now he has to get his fingers down in there and practically drum on his prostate to get any blood into his dick. He finally gets off a mechanical orgasm. It's more like taking a shit than sex: he feels relief, not satisfaction.
A month in, he even tries rubbing himself through his pants under the table in the mess hall, people nearby. It used to be a mortifying fantasy; Rodney used to threaten to make him do it while Rodney watched, and at the time John thought he was going to explode at just the idea of it, imagining Rodney staring at him pitilessly from across the table, the stares as the people around them caught on.
Actually doing it, he doesn't feel a thing.
He keeps wondering if Rodney's found someone else to go down for him yet. It seems possible. He would have expected Rodney to be upset about it, losing a source of reliable sex, plus whatever else Rodney got out of all that. But Rodney seems the same as ever, no more or less cranky than usual.
Six weeks after losing his sex drive, John's... okay with it. It's not great. He's had a couple of wet dreams, and that's embarrassing; not hot-embarrassing, but just regular plain old embarrassing. And he can't help feeling like there's something missing. It's not like he's spending more time alone than before, but it seems that way.
And he still feels like he kind of owes Rodney. So after the next Daedalus run, he takes one of his shiny new six-packs and heads to Rodney's.
Merry Go Round Broke Down 3
anonymous
February 1 2011, 11:31:28 UTC
Rodney opens the door, takes one look and says, "Oh. Great. Guilt. I'll get my coat."
"That's not it," John says eventually, feet dangling off the end of the pier.
"Not what?"
"Guilt." John takes a drink. "We used to do this."
They were friends, before, that's what he's thinking. Until they were captured on PHR-102 and trussed up, and the jailer taunted them. I've heard about you. They say your leader here will suck anything you put in his mouth and cry for more. You can tie him up and he'll beg you to use him, that's what they say.
John camouflaged his reaction with rage, but the cell was too small to hide what the mockery did to him, and knowing Rodney saw it just made it that much more shameful and hot and obvious.
When the jailer came back and gave them another round of insults, John started to almost feel like maybe he would fucking beg to be used. He could pretend it was a tactical move, a way to get out of the cell and have half a chance at freeing them.
He could almost feel himself losing his grip; he only pulled it together when the jailer poked his baton through the bars and jabbed Rodney and laughed, I should haul you out and have you over the bench, let your leader watch and wish it was him. That hit him like a bucket of cold water; he got his bonds loose enough that the next time the jailer came around and prodded in with his baton, John yanked it out of his hand and up hard enough to break his nose, hooked it out around his throat and choked him out while Rodney got the keys.
That was the first night Rodney came to his room, sneered at the degrading porn John was watching and ordered John to suck him. They still hung out after that, but it was different; John was always tense with anticipation, and Rodney was icy and contemptuous whenever they were alone.
It's been so long since a beer together wasn't anything else but just a beer together. He doesn't know if he can ever regain any of Rodney's respect-- seems pretty unlikely-- but this is a feeling he almost forgot, sitting shoulder to shoulder with Rodney, back on equal ground.
Re: Merry Go Round Broke Down 3
anonymous
February 1 2011, 19:31:00 UTC
Text cannot render my utter and amazed glee that my comment sparked this! The best thing is, I can't guess where this is going. Is John going to be happy now, is it just taking him a while to find a new balance with his (forgive me) unkinked sexuality. Will he and Rodney build a new relationship? Is this going to take a turn for the unhappy? What if he never gets any kind of normal libido back? What if the friendship isn't salvageable? Ooooh, my little head is spinning with possibilities.
Is there going to be more? Say there's going to be more. Puuuuuh-leeeeze.
Merry Go Round Broke Down 4
anonymous
February 2 2011, 12:34:35 UTC
"So we just go back to beer and chess and video golf? Pretend none of it ever happened?" Rodney asks skeptically.
"Can you?" John hopes.
Rodney just stares at him as if John's the dumbest multicellular creature alive. John looks away, embarrassed-- and it's so weird, how it doesn't thrill him. It's been weeks without it, but before that, he lived with that ironclad association for decades. The absence is a relief but it's still an absence, something missing right down through the core of him.
"Let's have sex," he says, surprising himself almost as much as Rodney.
"What? Why?" Rodney gapes.
Now it's John's turn to look at Rodney as if he's brain-free. He hops to his feet and gives Rodney a hand up. "C'mon."
Back in Rodney's quarters, John goes for a kind of combination kiss and grope, but it ends up being more of a peck and a pat as Rodney steps back out of it and takes charge.
"What exactly did that thing do to you?"
"I don't know," John says honestly. Rodney glares and John adds, "I really don't. I, uh, I don't get anything from the..." he gestures unhelpfully.
"Do you get turned on at all?"
"Not yet."
"What've you tried?"
John squirms. He might not have the same reactions to shame now, but he still feels it. He's regretting his impulsive suggestion.
At the same time, though, it's a big lure to think that maybe it'd be different with a partner, maybe he could get aroused.
He used to think it would be so much better if he never wanted sex, especially the kind of humiliating sex he needed. But it's like losing a bad tooth: the empty space is just as distracting as the pain ever was.
"Fine," Rodney crosses his arms, "just answer yes or no, then. Jerking off?"
John nods.
"Fingering yourself?"
Another nod.
"Porn?"
Nod.
"Sex with anyone else?"
"No."
"How about sex toys?"
"No."
"I don't suppose you have any," Rodney says. "The way you were before, you couldn't have kept toys around, you never would've been able to take them out of your ass."
It's just mortifying to hear that, not exciting at all. John thinks about leaving.
"Huh," says Rodney. "Okay, I'm not optimistic, but undress and get on the bed, we can try this out."
Merry Go Round Broke Down 5
anonymous
February 3 2011, 12:15:33 UTC
John almost just balks and goes then. He lifts his heated face to glance at Rodney, and sees that Rodney's looking serious... but he's also got at least half a hard-on going over there, and a flush on his face.
If he thinks of it as a shot at maybe having sex again, John can't convince himself it's worth it to stay. But he's already left Rodney hanging, and it's a dick move to do it again. John starts shedding clothes, slowly.
"You were a lot more tractable when you were kinky," Rodney says.
"What'd you get out of that, anyway?" John asks, hoping for distraction.
"Forget it," says Rodney. "If you ever get your groove back, you're not going to thank me for pulling back the curtain."
John studies him briefly at that, but Rodney just looks like Rodney: sarcastic, irritable, overclocked.
He's down to his boxers before Rodney deigns to strip too, much more quickly than John. They get on the bed together, and John sits awkwardly, no clue where to put his hands. After this many years in the military he's not self-conscious about being naked in front of someone, but that's where his ease with the situation ends.
Rodney tugs him until they're lying on their sides, facing each other, Rodney's hand on John's hip, slowly trailing down his thigh.
It's not exciting. It just feels like touching, kind of... huh. Kind of uncomfortable. Thinking back, it seems like touching has always felt uncomfortable at first, but the blaze of shame the contact left in its wake always took over, lit him up.
He's not catching fire now, just suppressing the urge to fidget under Rodney's hand. His skin prickles unpleasantly with sensation. He's too aware of all the hairs on his leg shifted by each touch.
"You still get embarrassed fairly easily, hm?" Rodney asks, shifting his hand up to rest at John's waist. The clinical note in his voice makes it a little easier to take. "It's just not hot anymore."
John shrugs agreement.
"Have you had any orgasms since it happened?"
"Three," John's able to get out.
"How?"
He used to tell Rodney much more humiliating things than this, anything, whenever Rodney demanded it. Rodney's heard him describe filthy fantasies and beg to be touched. It's stupid to hold back now. John answers, "Once with the, uh, jerking off and fingering. The other two," he makes a face, "I was asleep."
"That's interesting," Rodney says. "Physical stimulation still works even though the mental component's out." He leans over long enough to forage lube out from under the bed. He used to make John get it and then mock him for sticking his ass up in the air while he bent for it. "Here's my proposal. Blowjob, fingering. We'll see if that gets anything besides a physical reaction."
"You like being in charge," John blurts.
Rodney doesn't even bother vocalizing the duh that's clear on his face. "You can psychoanalyze or you can get sucked off."
John hesitates, but he's already put himself out there, and maybe it could work. He moves where Rodney puts him, waits as Rodney arranges pillows to lie between his legs more comfortably, and then Rodney's taking in his soft cock.
Being touched is still kind of making him want to climb out of his skin, but this time there's a counterpoint of pleasant sensation. It's nothing like the response he used to have to something like this. He remembers getting hard as a rock when Rodney shouldered his thighs apart, nearly coming at the first touch of Rodney's mouth. This is about on par with a watermelon Jolly Rancher, the bloom of sugary flavor, the lingering sweetness. It's good, but it's not exciting.
John gets hard a little faster than he did when he used his hand. He knows all his own hotspots, but Rodney's pretty familiar with them too, and the drag of his tongue feels good. It's bizarre to be so aware during a blowjob. Usually by this point John would be out of his mind. Now, it just feels nice.
Rodney goes for the lube, glancing up, making sure John sees him, sees what he's doing. Rodney's a lot more attentive than John ever noticed before. Of course then he had John as a plaything; now John's an interesting problem, something to study and pick apart and try to fix.
Merry Go Round Broke Down 6
anonymous
February 3 2011, 13:25:58 UTC
The cool slick touch against John's ass is nice too, nothing more. Rodney spends a while just stroking around down there, still sucking John, a little less aggressively as he focuses on John's reaction to the anal stimulation.
The first finger Rodney slides in is uncomfortable. John's really, really aware of his fingernail, even though Rodney keeps his nails smooth and filed down because of all the work he does with his hands. Rodney can get a much better angle than John can on himself, though, and when his finger strokes against John's prostate, that feels better than just nice.
Rodney takes a while getting John stretched enough to take two fingers. John almost loses the erection, and Rodney has to get one finger up him again and give his prostate a goose to keep it going. Once he's got John comfortable with two, Rodney gets in there and keeps up a steady rubbing motion with both fingers while sucking with renewed vigor.
It's like riding a roller coaster at half its normal speed: the sensations are there but the exhilaration is gone. He's conscious of his balls drawing up, of his muscles tensing and tightening, and even though it's all in a lower gear than he's ever experienced before, he does enjoy it.
When he comes, it feels better than it did on his own. The orgasm isn't just a release of pressure, it leaves him with a little buzz of contentment, too. He has an overall sense of well-being, like he just had a long, indulgent stretch and a big jaw-cracking yawn.
Once Rodney's all done swallowing and sliding his fingers out and cleaning off, he looks at John with his mouth at a dissatisfied cant. "Still just physical," he says.
"That was good though. Better," John says. "And with you it didn't take as long."
"In general I don't think it's ideal if you're describing sex in the same terms you'd use for a McDonald's drive-through," says Rodney. He's kind of keeping himself angled to conceal his hard-on.
John finds it so absurd suddenly that for a second it's hard not to laugh. He's begged to rim Rodney, crawled for him, carried a washcloth to Rodney in his mouth, and once came when Rodney threatened to piss on him... but now Rodney's acting like he's embarrassed that he's hard.
"Here, let me do you," John says, trying to switch places with him.
Merry Go Round Broke Down 7
anonymous
February 3 2011, 13:26:56 UTC
"You don't have to," Rodney says crossly, and it's so typical of him that John feels a weird little burst of fondness: Rodney offers the out, sure, but with ill grace, not bothering to conceal that he's irked about it.
"Come on," says John, trying to haul him into place, confused when Rodney almost seems to balk. "What? Before I did stuff for you all the time."
"Right," Rodney says flatly, "for me."
John stops. There it is again, the lurch of shame without the excitement backing it up. Because it's true. Everything he did for Rodney before, he did because it felt demeaning and hot to him, not with any particular intent to make Rodney feel good.
Rodney was always aroused, he always got off. Rodney could make John do anything, so John figured that meant Rodney always got what he wanted. John assumed Rodney was getting his kicks out of using John, the same as it did it for John to be used. But really, he didn't give it much thought.
"Let me," John says, not begging but offering.
Rodney relents, allowing John to settle him into place. He's softened a little, but his cock perks right back up again when John gets his mouth around it.
Even without the indecent thrill, sucking cock feels good. John knows what Rodney likes well enough to just work him, slow and easy, in and out, repetitive and almost soothing. He lets his fingers wander back and checks Rodney's face: Rodney's watching, flushed pink from his brows to his nipples, his lips parted.
"You want...?" John indicates the lube with his chin and slides his finger a little further back. It wouldn't be the first time; Rodney's had John finger him and even fuck him a couple of times, but that was unusual enough that John needs to check.
Rodney swallows. "Sure."
Circling his fingers around and around Rodney's asshole, John understands why Rodney spent a long time doing this to John... it made John react, but it makes Rodney crazy, just being touched there, even gently, like John's doing it. Rodney keeps rolling his hips and then stopping himself until finally John pulls off long enough to say, "Go ahead."
With a groan Rodney rocks up into John's mouth, back against his fingers, up into his mouth. John encourages him, his free hand guiding Rodney's hip. Rodney's hand covers his, tight over his as Rodney comes, breaking with a soft gasp of John, John. Afterward he avoids John's eyes.
John wonders if he really does have something to be ashamed of.
I love to imagine a Rodney POV of this too. I think it wouldn't necessarily clear up all the ambiguity. I imagine Rodney wondering if John realizes Rodney will never cross the line, that to him it's just dirty talk that he loves for what it does for John. I don't think we can know that, even having had access to John's POV, because John's in that hamster wheel in the story. When he gets off (heh) he might understand with perfect clarity that Rodney would never do that to him. Or he might not. There does always seem to be an underlying doubt in John. Maybe he can disregard it and function around it most of the time, and only indulge it like this, with Rodney.
But I would actually also love a further bit of this from John's POV, just because I'm really curious what Rodney's aftercare looks like in this scenario. I'd like to imagine it's reassuring, but the way you've set this up, it seems unlikely. Possessive, maybe, which would be reassuring without collapsing the illusion John has that Rodney might do the worst to him.
Thanks for not only a hot great story, but one that makes me speculate beyond its boundaries...
Reply
Yes, Rodney aftercare is rather perfunctory on the face of it. And always couched in a humiliating way. He tells John to and spread himself wide so he can check nothing's torn, then adds with a deliberately casual cruelty, "I don't want any blood on my sheets." When he uses a lifesign detector to make sure no one's in the hall outside, it's because, "I wouldn't want anyone to know I fucked the Pegasus galaxy's favorite bike."
If I wrote a sequel it would be about how exhausting it was for Rodney to maintain the illusion of disdain while giving John what he needs and that, though turning John on is great, Rodney is sometimes pained by the fact that if he ever slips, it will all fall apart. If John isn't scared and doubtful on some level, then it doesn't work for him. If he knew how much Rodney cared, knew how much he meant to Rodney, he know Rodney was taking care of him and without the edge, it wouldn't hit his kink.
Rodney would be very afraid of that happening, not only because the relationship would inevitable fail then, but because he's doing this to keep John from resorting to someone who would be genuinely dangerous. I imagine a scene gone wrong with some previous person or bad mission was how Rodney discovered John's kink.
Like you say, the closest Rodney can come to letting John know or revealing his feelings is through acting possessive, threatening to punish John in some humiliating fashion if he strays.
I think that unless something changed in John's psyche, the relationship would be ultimately doomed because it would deny Rodney everything he needed. It seems inherently unstable as I wrote it.
You know there are all these stories where they find some Ancient mechanism that messes up their minds or sexuality? A story where they got affected by one that genuinely helped or fixed something would be great.
Reply
Bunnied!
-
One minute, John is shifting uncomfortably as he follows the Regent into the bursary, his dick chafing heavily in his boxers at the thought of what Rodney will say later about John going off with the Regent alone, about John flirting with the Regina, even though John didn't mean to be anything but friendly; he knows it doesn't matter, that Rodney will make him pay.
The next minute, he feels a floating sense of disorientation and when he comes back to himself, half-staggered against an Ancient pedestal console, the hot twist of embarrassment is just... gone. He isn't the least bit hard anymore, his shame and anticipation missing as if they've been surgically removed.
Still kind of out of it, he looks up at the Regent, a self-satisfied expression floating between the royal neckbrace and the royal crash helmet.
"You may be a leader of your people," says the Regent, "but no common man deserves the attentions of my sister."
John takes his hands of the console and backs away fast, and the Regent looks even more maliciously pleased, obviously thinking that John is horrified by what the device has done to him.
When really, John's getting away from the console because he's afraid the device might reverse it. The loss is settling in, and John feels perfectly healthy and uncommonly clear-headed.
He tests himself, imagining Rodney grabbing a fistful of fabric at his shoulder and forcing him down, holding him away while John pleads to be allowed to blow him. He feels a vague sense of nostalgic fulfillment tinged with self-consciousness, like remembering a delicious unhealthy meal.
John tries to look freaked out and unhappy as the Regent orders him out of the bursary and back to the team, and then John tries to look as if he's trying not to look freaked out and unhappy when he flashes a thumbs-up to the team and tells them, "We're all good here."
-
In the infirmary after the mission, Keller doesn't find a thing wrong with John; she scans him to hell and back, standard procedure when any of them are exposed to Ancient tech, since John dutifully described the console to Rodney in the jumper on the way back. Maybe it's a mistake, but John didn't tell Rodney how the console changed his feelings and he doesn't tell Keller now, either.
Once they're all released, Rodney covertly gestures to John, who follows him; as much as he doesn't want to talk about it or think about it ever again, his sense of fair play won't let him just walk away. He owes it to Rodney to tell him it's over.
"It didn't take the Regent long to get tired of you," Rodney says the moment they're alone, giving John a little shove through the door into Rodney's quarters. "How long were you gone, four minutes? Of course, you're so desperate for cock, you probably sucked the come right out of him before he even had a chance to get all the way hard."
Now that it's not burning him up with shame and excitement, John can step back and kind of admire how creative and forceful Rodney is. He wonders where Rodney got all that muscle in his shoulders and arms without lifting weights. Maybe he's had a lot of practice pushing people around and holding them down.
"Are you smiling at me?" Rodney shouts. "What the hell is wrong with you?" And without the clouding buzz of arousal, John can see the actual concern that Rodney's covering with a show of anger; he sees the way Rodney's studying him, looking at his body language for cues.
"Nothing's wrong," John says honestly. "I, ah... I don't want that anymore." After a painful stretched second he adds, "Sorry."
Reply
John spreads his hands, indicating himself, his own lack of response.
"You don't want it anymore," Rodney repeats, this time with realization. His eyes narrow, a scowl gouging deep lines around his mouth. "What happened?" And just as fast, "It was that device you saw, wasn't it? Why didn't you say something? Weren't you listening at all? The Regent and Regina don't have absolute power there, we could negotiate with the Ministry if they denied us access to the device to reverse the effect--"
"Hey!" John says in annoyance. "I was listening. I don't want it reversed." Which leaves Rodney kind of hanging, he knows, and he does understand that that's shitty. "I'm sorry," he says again.
"Fine, okay." Rodney flicks a hand at him irritably. "Well? Get out of here."
John doesn't have to be told twice. He goes.
-
At first, it's fantastic. He was always aware of it as a huge vulnerability on missions, a weakness day to day around the city, and it's a tremendous weight off his shoulders.
After a couple of weeks, though, he's restless. Whatever the console did, it took his whole libido offline. His body still needs release now and then, but nothing excites him. Jerking himself off, he can't muster up much more than a semi. He tries porn, nothing. Just touching his own ass with lube used to make him tremble with guilt and arousal, but now he has to get his fingers down in there and practically drum on his prostate to get any blood into his dick. He finally gets off a mechanical orgasm. It's more like taking a shit than sex: he feels relief, not satisfaction.
A month in, he even tries rubbing himself through his pants under the table in the mess hall, people nearby. It used to be a mortifying fantasy; Rodney used to threaten to make him do it while Rodney watched, and at the time John thought he was going to explode at just the idea of it, imagining Rodney staring at him pitilessly from across the table, the stares as the people around them caught on.
Actually doing it, he doesn't feel a thing.
He keeps wondering if Rodney's found someone else to go down for him yet. It seems possible. He would have expected Rodney to be upset about it, losing a source of reliable sex, plus whatever else Rodney got out of all that. But Rodney seems the same as ever, no more or less cranky than usual.
Six weeks after losing his sex drive, John's... okay with it. It's not great. He's had a couple of wet dreams, and that's embarrassing; not hot-embarrassing, but just regular plain old embarrassing. And he can't help feeling like there's something missing. It's not like he's spending more time alone than before, but it seems that way.
And he still feels like he kind of owes Rodney. So after the next Daedalus run, he takes one of his shiny new six-packs and heads to Rodney's.
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"That's not it," John says eventually, feet dangling off the end of the pier.
"Not what?"
"Guilt." John takes a drink. "We used to do this."
They were friends, before, that's what he's thinking. Until they were captured on PHR-102 and trussed up, and the jailer taunted them. I've heard about you. They say your leader here will suck anything you put in his mouth and cry for more. You can tie him up and he'll beg you to use him, that's what they say.
John camouflaged his reaction with rage, but the cell was too small to hide what the mockery did to him, and knowing Rodney saw it just made it that much more shameful and hot and obvious.
When the jailer came back and gave them another round of insults, John started to almost feel like maybe he would fucking beg to be used. He could pretend it was a tactical move, a way to get out of the cell and have half a chance at freeing them.
He could almost feel himself losing his grip; he only pulled it together when the jailer poked his baton through the bars and jabbed Rodney and laughed, I should haul you out and have you over the bench, let your leader watch and wish it was him. That hit him like a bucket of cold water; he got his bonds loose enough that the next time the jailer came around and prodded in with his baton, John yanked it out of his hand and up hard enough to break his nose, hooked it out around his throat and choked him out while Rodney got the keys.
That was the first night Rodney came to his room, sneered at the degrading porn John was watching and ordered John to suck him. They still hung out after that, but it was different; John was always tense with anticipation, and Rodney was icy and contemptuous whenever they were alone.
It's been so long since a beer together wasn't anything else but just a beer together. He doesn't know if he can ever regain any of Rodney's respect-- seems pretty unlikely-- but this is a feeling he almost forgot, sitting shoulder to shoulder with Rodney, back on equal ground.
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Is there going to be more? Say there's going to be more. Puuuuuh-leeeeze.
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"Can you?" John hopes.
Rodney just stares at him as if John's the dumbest multicellular creature alive. John looks away, embarrassed-- and it's so weird, how it doesn't thrill him. It's been weeks without it, but before that, he lived with that ironclad association for decades. The absence is a relief but it's still an absence, something missing right down through the core of him.
"Let's have sex," he says, surprising himself almost as much as Rodney.
"What? Why?" Rodney gapes.
Now it's John's turn to look at Rodney as if he's brain-free. He hops to his feet and gives Rodney a hand up. "C'mon."
Back in Rodney's quarters, John goes for a kind of combination kiss and grope, but it ends up being more of a peck and a pat as Rodney steps back out of it and takes charge.
"What exactly did that thing do to you?"
"I don't know," John says honestly. Rodney glares and John adds, "I really don't. I, uh, I don't get anything from the..." he gestures unhelpfully.
"Do you get turned on at all?"
"Not yet."
"What've you tried?"
John squirms. He might not have the same reactions to shame now, but he still feels it. He's regretting his impulsive suggestion.
At the same time, though, it's a big lure to think that maybe it'd be different with a partner, maybe he could get aroused.
He used to think it would be so much better if he never wanted sex, especially the kind of humiliating sex he needed. But it's like losing a bad tooth: the empty space is just as distracting as the pain ever was.
"Fine," Rodney crosses his arms, "just answer yes or no, then. Jerking off?"
John nods.
"Fingering yourself?"
Another nod.
"Porn?"
Nod.
"Sex with anyone else?"
"No."
"How about sex toys?"
"No."
"I don't suppose you have any," Rodney says. "The way you were before, you couldn't have kept toys around, you never would've been able to take them out of your ass."
It's just mortifying to hear that, not exciting at all. John thinks about leaving.
"Huh," says Rodney. "Okay, I'm not optimistic, but undress and get on the bed, we can try this out."
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If he thinks of it as a shot at maybe having sex again, John can't convince himself it's worth it to stay. But he's already left Rodney hanging, and it's a dick move to do it again. John starts shedding clothes, slowly.
"You were a lot more tractable when you were kinky," Rodney says.
"What'd you get out of that, anyway?" John asks, hoping for distraction.
"Forget it," says Rodney. "If you ever get your groove back, you're not going to thank me for pulling back the curtain."
John studies him briefly at that, but Rodney just looks like Rodney: sarcastic, irritable, overclocked.
He's down to his boxers before Rodney deigns to strip too, much more quickly than John. They get on the bed together, and John sits awkwardly, no clue where to put his hands. After this many years in the military he's not self-conscious about being naked in front of someone, but that's where his ease with the situation ends.
Rodney tugs him until they're lying on their sides, facing each other, Rodney's hand on John's hip, slowly trailing down his thigh.
It's not exciting. It just feels like touching, kind of... huh. Kind of uncomfortable. Thinking back, it seems like touching has always felt uncomfortable at first, but the blaze of shame the contact left in its wake always took over, lit him up.
He's not catching fire now, just suppressing the urge to fidget under Rodney's hand. His skin prickles unpleasantly with sensation. He's too aware of all the hairs on his leg shifted by each touch.
"You still get embarrassed fairly easily, hm?" Rodney asks, shifting his hand up to rest at John's waist. The clinical note in his voice makes it a little easier to take. "It's just not hot anymore."
John shrugs agreement.
"Have you had any orgasms since it happened?"
"Three," John's able to get out.
"How?"
He used to tell Rodney much more humiliating things than this, anything, whenever Rodney demanded it. Rodney's heard him describe filthy fantasies and beg to be touched. It's stupid to hold back now. John answers, "Once with the, uh, jerking off and fingering. The other two," he makes a face, "I was asleep."
"That's interesting," Rodney says. "Physical stimulation still works even though the mental component's out." He leans over long enough to forage lube out from under the bed. He used to make John get it and then mock him for sticking his ass up in the air while he bent for it. "Here's my proposal. Blowjob, fingering. We'll see if that gets anything besides a physical reaction."
"You like being in charge," John blurts.
Rodney doesn't even bother vocalizing the duh that's clear on his face. "You can psychoanalyze or you can get sucked off."
John hesitates, but he's already put himself out there, and maybe it could work. He moves where Rodney puts him, waits as Rodney arranges pillows to lie between his legs more comfortably, and then Rodney's taking in his soft cock.
Being touched is still kind of making him want to climb out of his skin, but this time there's a counterpoint of pleasant sensation. It's nothing like the response he used to have to something like this. He remembers getting hard as a rock when Rodney shouldered his thighs apart, nearly coming at the first touch of Rodney's mouth. This is about on par with a watermelon Jolly Rancher, the bloom of sugary flavor, the lingering sweetness. It's good, but it's not exciting.
John gets hard a little faster than he did when he used his hand. He knows all his own hotspots, but Rodney's pretty familiar with them too, and the drag of his tongue feels good. It's bizarre to be so aware during a blowjob. Usually by this point John would be out of his mind. Now, it just feels nice.
Rodney goes for the lube, glancing up, making sure John sees him, sees what he's doing. Rodney's a lot more attentive than John ever noticed before. Of course then he had John as a plaything; now John's an interesting problem, something to study and pick apart and try to fix.
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The first finger Rodney slides in is uncomfortable. John's really, really aware of his fingernail, even though Rodney keeps his nails smooth and filed down because of all the work he does with his hands. Rodney can get a much better angle than John can on himself, though, and when his finger strokes against John's prostate, that feels better than just nice.
Rodney takes a while getting John stretched enough to take two fingers. John almost loses the erection, and Rodney has to get one finger up him again and give his prostate a goose to keep it going. Once he's got John comfortable with two, Rodney gets in there and keeps up a steady rubbing motion with both fingers while sucking with renewed vigor.
It's like riding a roller coaster at half its normal speed: the sensations are there but the exhilaration is gone. He's conscious of his balls drawing up, of his muscles tensing and tightening, and even though it's all in a lower gear than he's ever experienced before, he does enjoy it.
When he comes, it feels better than it did on his own. The orgasm isn't just a release of pressure, it leaves him with a little buzz of contentment, too. He has an overall sense of well-being, like he just had a long, indulgent stretch and a big jaw-cracking yawn.
Once Rodney's all done swallowing and sliding his fingers out and cleaning off, he looks at John with his mouth at a dissatisfied cant. "Still just physical," he says.
"That was good though. Better," John says. "And with you it didn't take as long."
"In general I don't think it's ideal if you're describing sex in the same terms you'd use for a McDonald's drive-through," says Rodney. He's kind of keeping himself angled to conceal his hard-on.
John finds it so absurd suddenly that for a second it's hard not to laugh. He's begged to rim Rodney, crawled for him, carried a washcloth to Rodney in his mouth, and once came when Rodney threatened to piss on him... but now Rodney's acting like he's embarrassed that he's hard.
"Here, let me do you," John says, trying to switch places with him.
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"Come on," says John, trying to haul him into place, confused when Rodney almost seems to balk. "What? Before I did stuff for you all the time."
"Right," Rodney says flatly, "for me."
John stops. There it is again, the lurch of shame without the excitement backing it up. Because it's true. Everything he did for Rodney before, he did because it felt demeaning and hot to him, not with any particular intent to make Rodney feel good.
Rodney was always aroused, he always got off. Rodney could make John do anything, so John figured that meant Rodney always got what he wanted. John assumed Rodney was getting his kicks out of using John, the same as it did it for John to be used. But really, he didn't give it much thought.
"Let me," John says, not begging but offering.
Rodney relents, allowing John to settle him into place. He's softened a little, but his cock perks right back up again when John gets his mouth around it.
Even without the indecent thrill, sucking cock feels good. John knows what Rodney likes well enough to just work him, slow and easy, in and out, repetitive and almost soothing. He lets his fingers wander back and checks Rodney's face: Rodney's watching, flushed pink from his brows to his nipples, his lips parted.
"You want...?" John indicates the lube with his chin and slides his finger a little further back. It wouldn't be the first time; Rodney's had John finger him and even fuck him a couple of times, but that was unusual enough that John needs to check.
Rodney swallows. "Sure."
Circling his fingers around and around Rodney's asshole, John understands why Rodney spent a long time doing this to John... it made John react, but it makes Rodney crazy, just being touched there, even gently, like John's doing it. Rodney keeps rolling his hips and then stopping himself until finally John pulls off long enough to say, "Go ahead."
With a groan Rodney rocks up into John's mouth, back against his fingers, up into his mouth. John encourages him, his free hand guiding Rodney's hip. Rodney's hand covers his, tight over his as Rodney comes, breaking with a soft gasp of John, John. Afterward he avoids John's eyes.
John wonders if he really does have something to be ashamed of.
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